


A Mercenary and a Force Witch

by RavenkinLegacy



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Gen, Mild Language, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenkinLegacy/pseuds/RavenkinLegacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trials of Korriban change everyone and everything.  They will never see eye-to-eye.  Some wounds never heal and some scars are best left untouched, but some people never learn how to leave well enough alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snowglobe

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of tales, in no particular order, about the dysfunctional not-friendship between my Sith Marauder Zurjut and my Sith Sorcerer Aurekthesh. These should all be basically gen, sometimes with some serious UST that will absolutely never get resolved.

Amidst the bustle of the Fleet Cantina, the last person Aurekthesh expected to see making his way through the crowd toward her was the armored Zabrak who called himself Kast. They had passed each other once or twice since their ill-fated encounter on Korriban, but between his attempted betrayal and her abandoning him in the tomb, the relationship that once might have been friendly had been turned into a tense dance of avoidance. Even now, sitting at one end of the bar with a watered down Juma Juice—which she was careful to drink _very_ slowly—Aurek found herself fidgeting, a spark of lightning beginning to crackle between her forefinger and thumb in preparation for another confrontation.

Khem Val must have sensed her apprehension, because he stepped up behind the bar stool where she sat and muttered to her, “Shall I eat the other horn-head, Little Sith?”

She took a deep breath and sat up straight. “No, I’ll take care of it.”

Kast stopped at the opposite end of the bar and said something to the blue Twi’lek by his side. She glanced over at Aurek, raised a brow, and replied too quietly for the sorcerer to hear. Kast pulled something out of his bag and pressed it into her hands, jerking his head toward Aurek. The Twi’lek took one look at the item, then burst out laughing. Aurek thought she saw a rueful smile on Kast’s face before he turned to flag down the bartender.

Aurek turned to face the Twi’lek as she slipped through the crowd toward her. Khem Val growled when the girl appeared from between a bunch of mercenaries. Seeing her flinch, Aurek swatted his arm. “Khem!” she said sharply, loud enough for the girl to hear. “Allow me to take care of this.” Khem rumbled—something about blood, Aurek thought—but stepped back to stand behind his master.

The Twi’lek hesitated for a second longer before clearing her throat. “Hey,” she quipped, much more casual than Aurek expected. “My… master, I guess, sent me to give this to you.” She held the item at arm’s length in front of her, cupping it in such a way that Aurek could take it without touching her hand.

Aurek favored the thing with a curious glance—it was round and clear, maybe crystal, with something inside of it—before scrutinizing the messenger. “Your master?”

The girl shrugged. “I mean, technically he is. Better him than somebody who would leave the collar on.” She shifted on her feet, still holding the item out. “He picked this up from a mission and thought he would give it to you as a peace offering.”

Aurek laughed. “A peace offering? Your master tried to kill me in a tomb over a tuk’ata brain, and he thinks that giving me a trinket is going to make it all better between us? And why did he send you? Why not come over himself?” She looked past the Twi’lek to where Kast sat, trying not look like he was watching her.

The girl lowered her arm and fixed Aurek with a look of patient irritation. “Look, he just sent me over because he was pretty sure you would sic Meat-Breath over there on him as soon as he came anywhere near you. At least I look small and non-threatening, right?” This, she punctuated with a cheeky smile that pulled an amused chuckle out of Aurek. She went on, “But seriously, he shoved this snowglobe at me and said, ‘Vette, I need you to do me a huge favor…’ and so here I am. Because I don’t know if you’ve ever seen him give puppy eyes, but it’s pretty hard to resist.”

“What does the head-tails mean by these eyes?” Khem Val grumbled, sounding as confused as Aurek felt. Vette glanced at him warily, then looked to Aurek for a translation.

Aurek just shrugged. “What’s a snowglobe?” she asked, finally holding out her hand for the gift, which Vette passed to her.

“It’s a glass ball with stuff inside, see?” Vette explained as Aurek examined it. It was in fact a ball of crystal on a solid black stand. Aurek could make out what looked like tiny ruined buildings inside of it amidst a flurry of grey flakes. “They usually have something like a miniature cityscape and little flakes of fake snow. This one is… uh…”

Aurek glanced up at her hesitation. “This one is…?” she prompted.

Vette rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. “It’s really kind of tasteless, you know? Appropriate coming from Zurjut, but tasteless.”

_Zurjut_ , Aurek thought. _So that is his real name._ Aloud, she asked, “Well, what is it?”

Vette stepped slightly closer, drawing another restless growl from Khem, and pointed at the inscription on the plate. Aurek squinted to read it. “In commemoration of the Sacking of Coruscant. Glory to the Emperor.”

She blinked, looked up at Vette, blinked again. “The Empire… made a decoration… to commemorate the destruction of a planet?”

Behind her, Khem Val snorted. “It seems the Sith are not the only ones who build memorials to pointless things.”

Vette shrugged helplessly. “Zurjut says he wasn’t sure if you would like it, but I guess he wanted to give it to you so you wouldn’t kill him the next time you saw him, or something.” She rubbed the back of her neck again. “I don’t know how much more I can help with this. It seems like you know him better than I do.”

Aurek shook her head and slipped the globe into her bag. “Tell him that Jith says ‘thank you, even if you are a bastard.’ And thank you, for the delivery. I’ll keep you in mind if I find anything interesting.”

“Oh!” Vette looked surprised. “Um, thanks. I guess. Yeah. Thanks.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Zurjut sat, now openly watching their exchange. “I should get going back. We’re off to somewhere or another. See you around, I guess.” She offered Aurek another cheeky smile, which the sorcerer returned in kind.

As Vette made her way back through the crowd, Aurek locked eyes with Zurjut. It was odd to think of him as someone who would give her a gift, but as they acknowledged each other across the bar with a nod and a casual salute, she thought about Vette’s words: “Appropriate coming from Zurjut, but tasteless.”

_Perhaps this is another lesson on how to be Sith,_ she thought.

“Little Sith, are you in your right mind?” Khem inquired, not sounding particularly concerned.

She nodded and took another swig of her Juma Juice. “I am. That man never fails to surprise me.”

“If he is able to surprise you, why not kill him before he can?”

Aurek shot a sidelong glance at the giant. “It’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”

She chuckled quietly as Khem Val grumbled. When she glanced back across the bar, Kast had disappeared with his Twi’lek companion. Aurek shook her head with a quiet huff, left to wonder when and where they would run into each other again, and whether they would exchange gifts or blows. There seemed to be an equal chance of either option now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my headcanon, the inquisitor is the only person who can actually understand Khem Val whenever he speaks. This makes many of the conversations in-game so much funnier.


	2. Collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zurjut stalks Aurek back to her ship and fails to amicably present a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out in present tense. Whoops. That'll happen occasionally, especially if I'm writing 'in the moment' of thinking about the story. If I ever switch tenses mid-chapter, please point it out! I sometimes don't notice, even after proofreading.

The ship is too dark, and too quiet. The medbay light, which she knew she had left on, has been turned off. The crew is all still at the cantina or otherwise occupied around town. Something is wrong.

_Something is wrong._ She rounds the corner into the engine room, remembering Samarii’s stealth trick and wishing that she had taken the time to learn it. _Something is wrong._

Then, _Someone is here!_ just before a body slams into her. The momentum lifts her off her feet and carries her into the wall. The arm across her throat threatens to cut off her air. She is too stunned to try calling on the Force to blast the enemy away. Instead, she just hangs there against the wall, a half meter off the ground, feet dangling and hands grasping, one to the wrist of that arm and the other to an armored shoulder. Blue eyes, wide with shock, catch golden eyes and hold.

“Kast!” she hisses. She is no longer surprised, but still frightened, now with an edge of anger. He must feel it rolling off her, but his face remains stone cold, orange like the statues of Korriban.

“Jith,” he responds, his tone milder than the situation warrants. He has not reached for his lightsaber, which she supposes is a good sign, but the gauntlet presses curved spines to either side of her windpipe.

“How did you--?” she demands as he presses the gauntlet closer.

“It was a simple task to follow your beast back here earlier today. Don’t bother calling; it’s not here. Even if you reach out through the Force, I’ll know.”

Her wits return to her as he speaks. She slides the hand that was gripping his shoulder down to his chest. Her voice comes out evenly despite her fear. “You will unhand me, or I shall stop your other heart. Your armor won’t stop it, and my lightning is faster and more decisive than even your hand.”

His eyes flick down to her throat, then to the hand on his sternum. He seems to consider for the briefest moment, then steps back suddenly. She drops to the floor and draws herself up like a proper lord. There is still barely a meter of space between them. He is taller by a head and a half, but her posture refuses to acknowledge that difference.

“Tell me why you have followed me,” she demands. “Just to prove that you can?”

He inclines his head a little, in a way that could mean either “yes” or “perhaps”. He is silent for a moment. She keeps watching his hands, waiting for them to move toward his sabers, wondering if she would be able to get out of the way in time with her back still to the wall.

“Believe it or not,” he replies, “I have a gift for you.”

Her brow furrows so deeply that it pulls at her scars. “You have a gift for me.”

He nods.

“And so you thought the best way to deliver it would be to follow my ‘beast’ back to my ship and ambush me!”

He raises an eyebrow.

She snorts. “I preferred when you sent the Twi’lek.”

He reaches to his belt and she raises her hands, sparks dancing and fingers twitching. He pauses, maintains his side of the staring contest for a moment more, then draws a small bag out of one of the pockets on his belt.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he says quietly. She suspects that it is the closest to an apology that he will ever give.

He holds up the bag for her to see, dangling between his thumb and forefinger. She lets some of the electricity recede from her fingertips and slowly reaches out to take it. Instinctively, she steps back, starting in surprise as her shoulders hit the wall. She knows she is trapped, but instead of moving toward her, he steps away. Golden eyes fixate on her, waiting. She gingerly undoes the drawstring and upends the contents into her hand, only taking her eyes off his when she is certain that it is safe.

The gift is a bright yellow gem, in a setting of brass dangling from the center of a strip of black leather. She holds it up and stares at it, this article that is clearly meant to be worn around the neck. When she looks back at him, his barely concealed eagerness leaves a pit of cold fury and disgust in her stomach.

“This is your gift?” she demands. His nod is hesitant; his confusion only infuriates her more. “I have worked so hard to rid myself of collars, and you would give me another? And expect that I shall wear it?”

Her fury drives him back a step. He has realized his mistake, as the air crackles with her power. He dives for the door to the main hallway to avoid the strike of lightning. She does not bother to pursue him; she can feel his exit clearly, her awareness heightened through the Force. Instead, she curls into herself, floating for a moment in midair, and wails.

Her crew finds her, hours later, curled up on the engine room floor, encased in a bubble of electricity. Khem is the only one brave enough to reach in and touch her shoulder, muttering in that tongue that only she can understand. He is the only one who will dare scoop her up, weather the pain of her lightning, and carry her safely to her room. He is the only one who sees the collar and gem clutched in her hand. He is the only one who would not dare to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, this is exactly how I would react if someone tried to gift me with a collar. I have a complex about those, and for some reason felt the need to write about it with these two jerks. So there you go.


	3. Good Cop, Bad Cop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following a prompt from a friend, Aurek and Zurjut find themselves at the scene of a crime. Aurek is exasperated and Kast takes the opportunity to be a jerk.

Traversing the back roads of Kaas City at dusk was a horrible idea, Aurek knew. It was also the best way to stay out of sight, though, and for all that she expected to go wrong, she did not expect to round a corner and find a Chiss being held at a human’s blasterpoint. And she certainly did not expect to see a familiar figure peering around the corner at the other end of the narrow alley.

For a moment, she just stared. The man with the blaster had not noticed her yet, and his victim was transfixed on the weapon that was practically shoved against his nose. Then Aurek caught the gaze of the figure in the shadows, and the bright gold eyes turned her stomach into a pit and reminded her who it was.

A malicious grin spread over Kast’s face. He held up three fingers, then two. When he got to one, Aurek raised both hands and made a shoving motion toward the mugger. The Force lifted the man off his feet and sent him sailing toward Kast, who caught him by the collar and shoved him up against the wall. Aurek tore her gaze from the other Zabrak and approached the Chiss, who stood transfixed, his gaze darting between his would-be attacker and his two unlikely saviors.

“Have you been injured?” Aurek asked him.

The Chiss started, straightened up, and breathed out slowly, seeming to calm himself. His red eyes were still wide, but they were no longer bright with terror. “No, my lord. You managed to stop him before he did any serious damage.”

Aurek nodded, doing her best to make her expression looked bored. “Very good. Run along. We shall see to this miscreant.”

The Chiss clicked his heels together and replied, “Yes, my lord,” before swiftly marching back down the alley in the direction that Aurek had come from. Only when he had turned the corner did she refocus her attention to Kast and the mugger.

The mugger had apparently stopped struggling when he realized that the one pinning him to the wall by his collar was Sith. He was now babbling pathetic pleas for his life. Kast, for his part, seemed to be pretending not to hear him. The mercenary let him hang there for a moment more, then glanced at Aurek and said something in a language she did not understand but recognized as Iridonian. Aurek raised her brow and tilted her head at him. Kast jerked his head toward the man and said something else, and Aurek realized what he was doing. _I am to play the translator. I don’t know what he’s saying, but he means to make me invent threats on his behalf. The bastard…_

She heaved a sigh and motioned for him to drop the man. He did, but also drew and ignited a saber; the mugger was clearly not going anywhere. Aurek fixed both of them with a look, then addressed the man. “He’s not going to let you go easily, you know.”

“I—I—I—” the man’s jaw quaked tremendously, and Kast growled something else at him.

Aurek ‘translated’, “The Chiss Ascendancy is a very important asset to the Empire. If you don’t tell him why you were threatening one of the Ascendancy’s highest ranking diplomats, he says he’ll cut your tongue out.” She caught the corner of Kast’s mouth twitching up into a smile at her casual cruelty, and added, “I don’t think you would survive it, nor am I certain I could stop him.”

The human’s gaze was transfixed to the bright orange saber, but he managed to choke out, “I didn’t know who he was! I—I just—I thought he might be—a traitor! A spy! You know how these aliens—” His eyes flew from the saber to the scowling face holding it, then to the face of the translator, and his voice died.

Aurek could see Kast’s jaw clench and his nostrils flare. She took pity on him as he fought to keep up the premise of not understanding, and asked the mugger in a sugar-sweet tone, “Would you like a chance to rephrase that before I translate it for the Zabrak with the lightsaber?”

“Oh stars please don’t kill me!” he whimpered in a rush, quaking worse than ever.

Kast raised his saber to the man’s neck height, and for a moment Aurek hesitated. But only for a moment. “Zurjut _,_ ” she addressed him. He glanced at her and she continued in Huttese, “ _Allow me to get his information and we’ll report him to the authorities._ ”

He tilted his head and regarded her skeptically, then replied in the same tongue, “Jith _, as far as he is concerned, we_ are _the authorities._ ”

“ _I will not stand by while you execute a man for racism,_ ” she told him, keeping a close eye on the mugger, who seemed to still be confused by their exchange.

“ _What better reason is there?_ ” Kast asked flatly, his face completely serious.

She pursed her lips, considering how to respond, then decided to take advantage of his act. After all, if he was pretending not to understand Basic, he could not object to what she was about to say. She addressed the terrified mugger again, “I’m going to take down your information, and you’re going to run along home and hope that he never finds out what you said about him, you understand?”

The man nodded as vigorously as he dared with Kast’s lightsaber still aimed at his neck. The Sith’s jaw clenched again, and he deliberately waited for Aurek to wave him away after she was done taking down the unfortunate’s information in her datapad before he deactivated his saber and hooked it back to his belt. When they had shooed the man off and were alone in the alley, he rounded on her.

“Give me that datapad,” he demanded.

“No.”

“No?” he echoed. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Nothing! I intended to scare the piss out of him, and that’s what I did. And that’s better than what you would do.”

He rolled his eyes. “And what do you expect that I would do?”

“Murder him in his sleep.”

“You’re not wrong.” He shrugged.

Aurek threw up her hands. “I am not facilitating your violence.”

Kast leaned against the alley wall, arm crossed and mouth set into a frown. “And here I was ready to be impressed with you. You did so well threatening the fool; for a moment, I thought your heart was actually in it. It’s quite a disappointment to learn otherwise.”

She shrugged placidly. “I do not care whether or not I disappoint you. I do, however, care about getting back to my ship safely. So if you would step aside…”

He stood unmoving for a moment, then shifted so his back was to the wall; barely a meter of space remained for her to squeeze by him. His mouth twisted into a smirk again and his eyes took on a challenging glint. Not to be intimidated, she marched up to him and moved to just brush past. She was hardly surprised when he stuck his arm out to block her way, but he had forgotten about her diminutive height. She ducked under his arm and called out over her shoulder, “Try a bit harder next time, would you?”

His laughter echoed behind her, but when she cast a glance over her shoulder, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aurek is mildly face-blind, so the only way that she ever recognizes Zurjut is the feeling of dread that his presence instills in her through the Force. That, and his eyes are goddamn gorgeous.


	4. A Legitimate Package

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aurek faceplants into a bunch of mercenaries in the name of getting her mail, and then Zurjut is right behind her jumping into the fray because apparently that's the only way that these two can ever meet.

In retrospect, Aurekthesh thought that she should have known she was missing something.  Staking out the warehouse for a day had been tough, but she had finally found a hole in the guards’ schedule:  shift change left a brief window when she could slip in and past the guards and only have to incapacitate one or two if things went dreadfully wrong.  Compared to the last handful of times she had tried to infiltrate somewhere and had the plan blow up in her face, this should have been an easy, quiet, low-key in-and-out job.

But the warehouse had been far too easy to enter; there had been too few guards and too little security.  She should have realized that something was off.  She should have left when it started to look suspicious.  She should not have been surprised when she opened a door and walked straight into a half-dozen heavily armed mercenaries, the kind that a company hires when they feel their security is too low.

But she was surprised, far more than they were.  The moment Aurek stepped in, blaster fire lit up the room, and she barely had time to dive for cover.

_Of course they’re all in the same room at once!_ She thought, hunched behind a stack of durasteel crates.   _Why wouldn’t they be?  Why would this be easy?!_

 

The whole misadventure had started with a message.

_To my friend from Tatooine:  it began.  I’ve come across something that I think you might like.  I’m sending it to a certain neutral spaceport on Nar Shaddaa for your pickup--the usual one, you know.  It should arrive in one standard week.  Please mind that it will require some care and attention._

The message was signed with a single character--”I”.  This was a fairly standard type of message from the Jedi Ismajii, so Aurek spent the next day or so figuring out how to discretely work a trip to Nar Shaddaa into her travel schedule.  In the end, she gave up on discretion, called it a vacation, and punched in the coordinates.  Whatever Issy had sent her, and for whatever reason, she was not about to miss out on picking it up.

A week later, Aurek was pacing the lobby of the neutral spaceport, the only one that welcomed both Republic and Imperial personnel.  She was dressed in a simple tunic and plain pants, and a facewrap like those worn in the dunes of Tatooine to conceal her tattoos and scars.  She caught snippets of conversations in Huttese, and avoided small talk as much as possible--she was atrocious at concealing the accent that marked her as Imperial, even in tongues other than Basic.

Two shipment distributions later, the day was drawing to a close and still there had been no sign of her package.  Aurek was starting to get anxious when a beep from her commlink notified her of a new message.

_To my friend from Tatooine:  I’ve just been informed of a complication.  The shipment that holds your package has been rerouted to a Republic warehouse in the Industrial Sector.  I would offer to send someone to retrieve it for you, but my go-to person is currently offworld.  You’ll have to retrieve it yourself.  I’m so sorry about this.  Be careful. -- I_

 

That was how Aurekthesh ended up sneaking into a Republic-owned warehouse and planting herself straight into the middle of a bunch of mercenaries.  If they had not started firing right away, she might have been able to negotiate with them.  After all, she only cared about her package, perfectly legally shipped and presumably obtained legally as well, since it was from a Jedi.  It was probably in a crate in one of the rooms behind the hired muscle, but they obviously were not in the mood to talk.

Panic twisted her stomach as the blaster fire continued.  It was only a matter of moments before they would make their way around her cover to have a clear shot at her.  The suppressive fire was effective; most people would be pinned down, unable to move, and for a minute, she was.

_But you are not ‘most people’,_ a little voice reminded her through the panic.   _You are Sith, and the Force is with you._

 

They had met during a mission on Tatooine, an unlikely alliance formed from a common goal.  Destroying the terrible machine that Czerka Corporation had dug up from the sand took precedence over their factions’ power struggle, so they had shaken hands on top of a dune and agreed to support each other through the end of the assignment.  They had even agreed on the outcome; the Rakatan device could not be allowed to leave its underground chamber or even remain intact.  At the end of the day, they dismantled it together and buried it back in the sand.  They shook hands again and parted ways with the wish to never encounter each other on the battlefield.

 

Crouched behind the crates, Aurek thought of the overwhelming calm that Ismajii had displayed during that mission.  Issy’s determination and clear-minded focus had been infectious, bringing Aurek’s panic down to manageable levels and helping her harness her power into the most pinpointed strikes she had ever managed.  She reached for that calm again, but it felt alien to her without the Jedi there to focus it.  She could not find it in herself to quiet the fear and slow-boiling anger that clawed their way up her throat.  In light of her own training, _“There is no emotion, there is peace,”_ simply was not going to work.  But she knew what would.

Instead of swallowing the terror, Aurek grabbed at it and tugged.  She pulled the feeling out of her guts and pushed it through her veins.  Her passion, her strength, her power crystallized into a static shield around her, and she rose, carried by the Force.

For just a moment, the mercenaries looked surprised to see her emerging from behind the crates.  But that surprise turned to abject terror as the air started crackling around them.

All the rage and fear that Aurek could muster ripped through her body, up her throat, down her arms, and out her hands in a powerful lightning storm.  For a moment, the purple of the electricity completely filled her vision.  She was part of it, as it was part of her.  She was drowning in the Force, as the lightning threatened to stop her hearts with each strike.

Then another set of colors cut across her vision:  blue and orange, a twin pair of sabers flying from behind her into the fray, followed closely by a grey blur sailing over her head.  Two more blazing strikes, and one of the guards fell.  Another, who Aurek’s lightning had briefly stunned, swung his rifle around toward the newcomer only to see it flung across the room.  Then he was cut down as well.  Aurek took the opening to fire another blast that chained between all four remaining mercenaries.  Some of them fell, and the newcomer’s lightsabers cut down the rest.  The room went quiet except for the sound of the Siths’ breathing.

Gold eyes met blue, and Aurek groaned.  “What are _you_ doing here?”

Zurjut deactivated and holstered his ‘sabers.  “Breaking in.  What does it look like?”

Aurek circled around the crates, careful to keep several meters of space between them, and headed toward the storage room.  “Are you here for a legitimate package, or an illicit one?”

The other Zabrak snorted and followed her.  “What kind of Sith enters a Republic warehouse, cuts down their guards, and rummages through their supplies for a legitimate package?”

She paused to give him a pointed look.

“What?  What are you here for?”

“A legitimate package,” Aurek sniffed.  “It got rerouted here, so I snuck in.  Or, I would have, if not for those fools.”

Zurjut waved one hand dismissively.  “You did fine.  We got rid of the mercenaries and no one else has come by yet, although I expect that will change shortly.”

Aurek ignored his uninvited praise and continued to scan through the packages with her eyes and with the Force, looking for anything with her name or the sense of her unlikely friend attached to it.  “You still haven’t told me what you’re here for.”

“An illicit package, as you said,” he replied in that carefully mild tone that always accompanied an answer he was reluctant to give.

She opened her mouth to shoot back a response, but instead cried out “Oh!” as her eyes caught onto a box labeled with two letters:  Aurek and Thesh.  She stared at it for a moment, confused by the sense of _living_ that emanated from the box.  Then she noticed the airholes, and the quiet snorting sounds.  She reached out with the Force to lift the box down from the stack, and carefully opened the viewslot on its top.

She was sure that the sight of the contents could elicit an adoring coo from even the toughest Sith Lord.  Curled up in the bottom of the box, apparently asleep despite all the ruckus, was a four-legged ball of scales and gently glowing purple backplates.  It was the size of a cleaner droid, but its feet were too big for its legs, like a kath hound pup that had not yet grown into itself.  It had a short, stubby tail and what looked like mandibles framing a toothy mouth that hung open in tiny snores.

Aurek started in surprise when Zurjut tapped her elbow.  “Time to go, _jith_ ,” he jerked his head toward the sound of approaching footsteps.  “Get with you came for?”

She snapped the viewport shut before he could peer inside.  “I did.  Did you?”

He motioned to the box he had tucked under one arm.  “There’s a way out the back, that the mercenaries were supposed to guard if we hadn’t relieved them of their duties.  We can get out there if we’re quick.”

A shout of surprise echoed down the hallway, and the footsteps moved faster.  The Sith exchanged an unsurprised glance and broke into a run, aiming for the back of the storage room.

In the end, they managed to get out just as the alarm system started blaring.  Zurjut all but pulled Aurek onto the back of a speeder that was parked off the end of the dock, and she barely had time to secure her crate before he slammed on the accelerator and dove out of sight of the warehouse.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the Imperial-aligned spaceport.  Zurjut parked the speeder somewhere a dockhand might find it later, and they disembarked.

Concerned for their other passenger, Aurek set the box on the ground and opened the side.  The speeder ride must have awoken the tiny thing, because it stumbled out looking slightly disoriented and maybe a little grumpy.  It turned this way and that before focusing its four teal eyes on the two Zabrak.

Aurek shot a sidelong glance at Zurjut to see his expression.  He was staring intently at the creature with furrowed brow and narrowed eyes.  He gave no audible reaction, dashing her hopes of hearing him coo over the thing.  The creature, for its part, was giving as good as it got.  It glared at the two of them for a good ten seconds until it got bored, then it made a little squawking sound and retreated into the box.  Aurek obliged it by shutting the side back up and hoisting it onto her shoulder where she could hear the thing snuffling at the airholes.  When she looked back at Zurjut, he still had that strange expression on his face.

“What?”

“ _That_ is your legitimate package?” he demanded.

“Yes,” she snapped.  “Do you think it isn’t?”

“Where did you get it?”

She glared.  “I assume you mean besides the warehouse we just got back from.”

“Yes, _jith_ , besides the warehouse.”

“I got it from a friend.  Why?”

He nodded and turned to go, his own box tucked beneath his arm.

“Kast,” she asked, suddenly unsure of herself.  “Why?  Why do you ask?”

He stared at the box for a long while before replying, “I’ve heard tell that the variety of mewvorr in that box is exclusively found on Tython, the homeworld of the Jedi.”  She gaped.  “See?  Surely you understand why I doubt the veracity of your claim.”

Aurek nodded slowly as she pulled the box close to her chest.  She let her sense of the Force brush over the creature inside; it pulsed with a sense of life and simple interest in the foreign world around it.  When she looked back at Kast, he wore a quirked little smile.

“What?” she demanded.

He shrugged.  “It’s still better than what I got.”  And with that, he marched down the dock toward the hangars.

Aurek stood for a moment more, still feeling the mewvorr with the Force, then set the box down and pulled out her comm.

_To my friend from Tatooine:_ she began.   _I have received your package, and I thank you for it.  It’s not every day that I get a rare gift from a world I will never see.  Thank you.  Truly.  I shall treasure it and care for it, and hope that it does not see fit to eat my shoes._

She signed it with the same two characters that were on the box, and hit “send”.  The box at her feet squawked again.

“Yes, I know,” she replied, hiking it up onto her shoulder.  “You’ll be out soon enough.  I just have to get you home.”

Aurek started toward the hangars.  She did not need visions from the Force to tell her that there would be a lot of research in her future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ismajii is my Jedi Guardian, whose first meeting with Aurek will get posted in another work eventually. Next up -- as soon as I get it proofed -- will be an account of Aurek and Zurjut's first meeting. Fun times!
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me! If there are any scenarios that you would like to see these two jerks in, feel free to leave suggestions in the comments. I always appreciate prompts!


	5. Halls and Hearts of Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aurek and Zurjut meet for the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth times.

Korriban, homeworld of the Sith, where warriors were made and weaklings were broken.  Everything ran red on Korriban, from the sky to the sands to the blood of failed apprentices and inadequate masters.  Aurekthesh never imagined that she would tread its surface.  She thought as she stepped off the shuttle behind the other potential apprentices that the redness of the place suited her; her orange skin matched the chiseled statues that lined the path to the Sith Academy, their heads bowed in respect to the newcomers.  She raised her face to the red sky and let the breeze sweep her red hair over her horns.

_That's right,_ she thought at the statues.   _Bow your heads to me.  I will never bow mine to anyone again._

 

Ahead of her, the next crop of warriors-in-training emerging from another hallway, back-lit by the red and white glowing orbs that lined the walls.  One of them, a male Zabrak gave her a little smile and nod, but she only gave him a haughty glare in return.  His smile quickly slipped into a snarling smirk and he marched down the hall with the rest of his troupe.

_That's more like it,_ Aurek nodded.

 

Forging through the tomb of Ajunta Pall, she happened upon a datapad in the clutches of a body that the k'lor'slugs had stripped to the bone.  The datapad appeared to be from the Imperial military.  It contained a request for the recovery of a number of ancient Sith artifacts and the authorization of lethal force against the raiders who took them.

A little further down the tunnel, the raiders milled about a camp brazenly set up across the expanse of one of the large chambers of the tomb.  A few open boxes were scattered around the room.  As Aurek surveyed the area, she saw a warrior approaching from another tunnel.

She recognized him by the striking gold of his eyes; he was the Zabrak who she had seen earlier in the hangar.  He caught her gaze and grinned.

She nodded to the well-armed raider in the center; he drew his sword and smiled grimly.  She held up three fingers, then two, then one and fired a lightning bolt at the nearest raider.  The warrior on the other side bounded forward in a blur of Force-propelled motion to distract the man with the big gun.

In moments, the pair of them had cut down all six raiders in the camp.  Aurek and the warrior exchanged a salute as he went on his way, and she waited until he was out of sight before retrieving the artifacts from the boxes.  Then she continued down the tunnel that he had emerged from.

 

It took her a long time to find the upper exit from the tomb, but once she was out, Aurek gave in to the urge to explore.

Several acolytes patrolled the path, and here and there she would find a body shoved into a corner; it appeared that several of them were challenging each other to duels.  The occasional overseer that she passed ignored her, which gave her a refreshing sense of freedom.  It was tiresome to be watched constantly as a slave.  Although she knew without a doubt that any heinous transgression would bring down an overseer’s wrath, the atmosphere of being only casually observed was liberating.

Soon enough, curiosity led her back toward the spaceport, which could still be seen from the ledge.  As she approached the edge, she noticed an elevator at the end of the path.  Curious, she peered over the edge to see the entrance to the tomb.

Annoyance welled in her chest.  “How did I miss this?!” she exclaimed aloud.

A male voice behind her chuckled quietly.  She whirled around to see the golden-eyed warrior several meters back.  Her glare elicited a small grin from him, and he quipped, “Don't worry, _jith_ , the elevator eluded us all the first time we passed it.”

Aurek's glower deepened.  “What did you call me?”

The warrior tilted his head and shrugged lazily.  “ _Jith_.  It's a word in our own tongue.  You've never heard it?”

She tilted her head in kind.  “What does it mean?”

His expression sobered and he studied her face for a moment before replying.  “It refers to one who wields the Force.  Why?  What are you called?”

She put on a sweet smile.  “I like Jith.  Should we meet again, you may call me that.”

She squared her shoulders and marched back toward the cave entrance.  The warrior stepped aside to let her pass and tossed her a casual salute, to which she replied with a cheeky wink.

A deep sense of satisfaction settled over her as she re-entered the tomb.

_There is a word for me besides ‘slave’._

 

Aurek gave the assistant overseer at the entrance to the Academy a stiff little bow and backed off a few steps before marching down the hall.  She was still seething from his insults and his disgusted, lecherous gaze.

“Are you lost, Jith?”

Aurekthesh nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice that came from close by her elbow.  The golden-eyed Zabrak came up beside her, a small amused smile on his face.  His habit of tilting his chin down to look at her made her feel as though there was even more than the head and a half of height between them.

She glowered at him.  “I swear, if you sneak up on me one more time, I shall blast you to pieces, and I shan’t regret it.”

He chuckled.  “Well, are you lost?”

“I'm not.”

She was, and her haughty tone only prompted more open laughter from him, but he paused after a moment and regarded her thoughtfully.  “Would you like to see what it means to be Sith?”

Aurekthesh blinked once, carefully, and studied his expression.  It hovered between apathy and vague amusement.  Out of pure curiosity, she decided to humor him.

“Why not?” she replied with a shrug, then pinned him down with a glare.  “But if you cross me…”

He motioned for her to follow him, and she did, down a side corridor and around a few turns.  Finally, they reached a set of double doors, large and plain compared to the others around the building.  They were open only slightly, and the Zabrak crouched by the edge of the doorway and motioned Aurekthesh over.  She joined him, crouching by the doors, and they listened.

Several voices floated out from the chamber within.  Most of them were speaking Basic and sounded relatively human.  One rose above the others:  “Kill him, then.  I have no loyalty to the man.”

A heavy quiet fell over the room for a moment, then there was a rustle of fabric and another voice replied, “I can’t move until he does.  And you know very well that the only reason I keep you around is to learn of his plans.  I could not care less about your loyalties.”  He practically spat the last word.

“I told you at the beginning,” the first voice responded.  “I am not particularly close to him, nor do I want to be.  I don’t have the information that you need.”

The ensuing scuffle came as no surprise to Aurekthesh.  Already, she knew better than to state to a superior—or even one casting himself as a superior—that she was not fit for the task he had given her.  The scuffle ended with a sound like someone being slammed onto a table, and the second voice roared, “Then you will go back to him and you will retrieve that information, no matter the cost!  Or so help me, I will take my wrath out on you as well as on your pathetic master!”  Another sound followed, that same someone being thrown to the floor, and a rumble of fear and admiration coursed through the room.

Aurek glanced at the Zabrak warrior, who smiled almost wistfully.  She started to return the gesture, but it vanished from both their faces when they heard footsteps approaching the door from inside the room.  They both sprang to their feet and scampered away down the hall in opposite directions, their soft-soled boots making little noise on the stone floor.

She slowed to a casual stroll as she rounded the final corner and emerged back in the chamber where she had met the warrior.  It occurred to her as she ascended another set of stairs that she had no idea what to call him, and she found even that slight advantage of his infinitely annoying.

 

The trek to the Tomb of Marka Ragnos was excruciating.  The path to the tombs was beaten out in the sand and only partially paved by slabs of stone.  Aurekthesh could not tell if it was yet unfinished, or if it had once been paved more fully and time had worn the path away.

By the time Aurek reached the entrance to the burial chamber, she was covered in her own sweat and the blood of a dozen tuk'ata, several crazed soldiers, and one mercenary who had deemed it wise to attack someone who was already covered in gore.  To make matters worse, the brewing sandstorm decided to peak just as she hit the stairs leading up to the entrance.  The tomb loomed over her, and had she not been so intent on getting inside, she would have found the external architecture breathtaking.

She made it inside the tomb and immediately dove behind a fallen pillar to avoid a blaster bolt from another insane soldier who had taken refuge inside.  She pressed her back to the pillar and tried to form a plan past the haze of exhaustion, but her mad dash up the stairs had left her too winded to think straight.

_The least I can do is take him down with me,_ she thought.  She drew her sword, felt its weight foreign and awkward in her hands.  She squeeze her eyes tightly shut and took a last deep breath, let it out slowly through clenched fangs.

She sprang to her feet to face her opponent, and the crazed soldier let out a strangled gurgle and crumpled to the ground.  Aurek blinked against the wind and peered into the dimly lit entry hall, still clutching her sword tightly.  Through the flying dust, she could make out a single figure sheathing his sword.  The crazed soldier lay dead at his feet.  The figure seemed to look up at her, and then she heard a laugh from him.

“Well, Jith,” his familiar voice called over the howling wind.  “I hardly expected to see you in here.”

_The man from before,_ Aurekthesh realized.  She was not sure whether to be happy that he had cleared the way for her or annoyed that he had shown up at the last possible moment.

“What are you doing here?” she called back.

The warrior retreated a little further into the hallway and beckoned Aurek to follow.  She circled around the fallen pillar and dashed across the entry hall, sword still at the ready in case he was not as friendly as he appeared.  But he just pressed his back against the wall and breathed a deep sigh through the cloth that covered his mouth and nose.  All that could be seen of his face were his golden eyes, which she tried very hard to avoid staring at.

Reluctantly, Aurek sheathed her sword and leaned against the wall opposite the warrior and a few meters down the hall.

“What are you doing here?”  she repeated after a moment of catching her breath.

He jerked his thumb toward the recently deceased soldier.  “These mongrels are a disgrace to the military.  I'm making sure they don't cause any more problems.  What about you?  What are you doing in here?”

She glanced at the corpse, considering how to answer.  “Are there many more of them?”

The Zabrak raised a brow at her and scratched at his cheek.  “Truth be told, I just got in here.  That lout was the second one I killed inside the tomb itself.  So yes, there are probably many more deeper inside.  Why do you ask?”

_There is no harm in recruiting this man's help,_ Aurek decided.   _So long as he does not ask for anything foolish in return._

So she told him, “I find myself in need of a guardian so that I might travel deeper into the tomb.  I am also hunting a quarry, and it would be a shame if all these soldiers slowed me down.”

The warrior favored her blood-stained clothing with an appraising glance.  Then he burst out laughing.  Aurekthesh stared at him for a second, then threw up her hands.  “Was it something I said?”

He shook his head, still chuckling.  “You seem to be doing surprisingly well for yourself so far, if the blood on you is anything to judge by.  Why ask me for an escort?”

Aurekthesh narrowed her eyes cautiously.  “I've been running around Korriban all day, as you no doubt have as well.  I'm beginning to tire, and you are better equipped to handle direct combat then I am.”  She thought for another moment, then added, “Besides, as someone told me when I first got here, I would do well to get in good with the Imperial military early.  You're as good a place as any to start.”

He seemed to grin at her from under the mask.  “Alright, Jith.  I'll escort you, and I'll bear in mind what you said about making connections.  Put in a good word for me when you get back.  Deal?”

She leaned forward and grasped his extended hand firmly.  “Deal.”

He motioned for her to follow him a little way down the hall so that they were further away from the blowing sand.  Once around the corner, he sank down against the carved stone wall and sat on his haunches, breathing slowly with his eyes closed.  Aurekthesh took up a similar position on the opposite wall and tried not to look too relieved that he had not decided to charge off right away.  After a few moments of silence, she ventured a question.

“You've been calling me 'Jith', but how shall I call you?”

He opened one gold eye and peered at her.  “Kast.  It's as good a name as any for now.”

“Does it mean anything?”

“Mercenary, in our tongue,” he replied.  “Where were you born, that you did not know even common words from your own language?”

Aurek stared at the ground, trying to ignore how much that stung.  She had barely any memories of her home planet.  Finally, she answered, “Balmorra.  I am told that I was born on Balmorra.”

“You're told?” Kast asked.

She nodded.  “I don't remember the place.  I was taken away almost immediately.”

“By whom?”

Aurekthesh raised her brow at him and let out an exasperated sigh, pointed to the brands that stretched across her cheeks.  “I was made a slave before they knew that I could feel the Force.”

Kast grunted and nodded absently.  He was silent for another moment, then said, “How did you get here?”

“Some Sith is seeking a new apprentice.  I was brought here with a batch of others to test our worth to that end.”  Aurek pushed herself to her feet and brushed off the seat of her trousers and the back of her tunic.  “Let us go.  I do not wish to wait until nightfall to hunt my quarry.”

Kast got to his feet and stretched.  “As you say.”

They set off down the hallway together, with Kast slightly ahead to intercept any possible ambush.  They encountered several more crazed soldiers and a few acolytes, but the other residents of the tomb had weakened them sufficiently that they did not pose any real challenge to the two Sith-in-training.  Aurek blasted away a few k'lor'slugs that attempted to creep up on them from a tiny side tunnel, and Kast muscled a boulder over the hole to block more of the bugs from coming out.

A pained wailing sound from a side room caused Kast to motion for Aurek to halt.  The two of them inched forward and peered carefully around the corner into the room.

There was a large crevice in the back wall, and Aurek thought she could see movement in the darkness of the crack.  Another low wail emitted from the darkness.  She looked around for something to use as bait, then grabbed a small k'lor'slug corpse.

“Is that your quarry?” Kast inquired.

Aurekthesh nodded.  “Are you ready?”

“What is it that we are facing?”

“A tuk'ata, probably a big one.”

She barely gave Kast time to nod in affirmation that he was ready to face the beast.  She threw the k'lor'slug out into the middle of the room, gave it a little jolt of lightning, and hoped for the best.

The response came instantly.  A huge tuk'ata, easily twice the size of the biggest one she had seen yet, came barreling out of the crevice.  It swept the dead k'lor'slug up in its massive jaws and swallowed it in one gulp.  Aurek in turn bolted around the corner and sent an arc of lightning toward it.  Kast came immediately after her and launched himself into the fight.

_I will not admit it to him,_ Aurek noted as the warrior drew the beast's attention away from her.   _But his enthusiasm is impressive.  There’s no nice way to tell someone that you enjoy watching them fight._

The mutant tuk'ata went down easily under their combined onslaught.  When Kast stepped back to sheath his sword again, Aurek drew hers and approached the corpse.  She could see lines of poorly executed stitching on the beast's flanks, and frowned in disgust.

“Is it not to your liking, Jith?” Kast asked, his eyes still alight from the battle.

Aurekthesh shrugged in response.  “While it is true that I needed to kill this thing, my ultimate task is to recover its brain to bring back to the research outpost.  It does not seem a pleasant task, but it is necessary.”

As she knelt to set about opening the creature's skull, she sensed a ripple from her companion, an unfortunately familiar feeling.  She put her finger on it immediately--the creep of self-interested deceit that she sensed from so many at the academy, that she was sure she had given off herself at some point.

“The researchers are paying you to bring this brain back to them?” His tone was carefully mild, too controlled to be truly innocent.

She listened as Kast's quiet footsteps approached.  “Mhm,” she hummed absently, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet.  He had not drawn his sword, but she sensed his intent nonetheless.

_I cannot overpower him directly, but perhaps I still have a chance._  She drew in all of her determination and her sheer annoyance at his betrayal, and channeled them into her free hand.

As soon as she sensed him reaching for his sword, she sprang up and struck with her own.  As she expected, he drew his quickly to defend himself.  Their blades clashed and resisted one another.

Kast was strong and fast, but Aurekthesh was small and quick, and the warrior did not expect the speed of her hand shooting out to press flat against his chest over his hearts.  Aurek poured all her rage into lightning through that hand.

He gasped once and sagged to the ground.  Aurekthesh checked his pulse; he still lived, but the heartbeat was faint.  She guessed that her lightning had stunned one of his hearts and temporarily rendered him unconscious.

She considered finishing him off.  He had, after all, betrayed her.  But he had also helped her, and perhaps if she let him live, they would meet again under better circumstances.  Then again, he could very well decide to kill her the next time they met.

It was a dilemma that she did not have time to properly resolve if she wanted to get out of the tomb before nightfall.  She would let him live for now, she decided, and see what fate and the Force had in store for them later.

_Besides,_ she thought as she extracted the tuk’ata brain.   _He is a far preferable rival to have over anyone else I’ve met so far, if he can survive getting out of this tomb._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The snippet of conversation between the conspirators was taken from an RP session that I accidentally walked into my first time on Korriban. It seemed appropriate to include for flavor. Kast's choice of bonding exercises needs work.


End file.
